The circle was thirty feet wide, defined by a perimeter of snarling Lionesses. Inside the ring, the marble floor of the amphitheater was stained with centuries of moss and the fresh drops of blood falling from Kaira's hairline.
Kaira stood in the center, swaying slightly. Her left arm hung uselessly at her side, the bone fractured from Leopold's earlier strike. Her breath came in ragged, wet gasps.
Opposite her, Lord Leopold didn't even look like he was fighting. He looked like he was posing for a royal portrait. He stood tall, his tattered velvet cape fluttering in the evening breeze, his golden eyes filled with a bored, lethal amusement.
"You are trembling, Little Shrimp," Leopold observed, his voice smooth as oil. "Is it pain? Or is it the realization that you are prey pretending to be a predator?"
Kaira spit a glob of blood onto the white stone. She raised her good arm—her right arm. The iridescent chitin armor locked into place with a metallic click. The vents at her elbow hissed, releasing a thin stream of pressurized steam.
"I'm just revving the engine, Kitty," Kaira rasped, forcing a grin. "Don't blink."
Leopold smiled, exposing fangs that were longer than Kaira's fingers. "I never blink."
He vanished.
To Ren, standing on the sidelines with Titus's heavy hand on his shoulder, it looked like teleportation. One second Leopold was standing by the throne; the next, the air where Kaira stood was exploding.
BOOM.
Kaira flew backward.
She hadn't even seen the strike. Leopold had closed the thirty-foot distance, delivered a spinning kick to her ribs, and returned to his starting position before the sound of the impact even reached the audience.
Kaira slammed into the ground, skidding across the marble until she hit the base of a pillar. She groaned, clutching her side.
"Too slow," Leopold taunted, inspecting his claws. "My totem is the Barbary Lion. Do you know what that means? It means I am the end of the evolutionary line. I am perfect efficiency. You are just… loud."
Kaira scrambled to her feet. She didn't look scared. She looked furious.
Her eyes—those strange, sea-green eyes of the Mantis Shrimp—narrowed. The Mantis Shrimp has the most complex eyes in the animal kingdom. They can see polarized light. They can process motion faster than a supercomputer.
She could see him.
She saw the twitch in his calf muscle. She saw the shift in his center of gravity.
He's coming left, Kaira's brain screamed. Low angle.
She spun, pre-firing. She didn't wait for him to arrive. She punched the empty space to her left.
"IMPACT!"
A cone of compressed atmospheric pressure blasted outward from her fist.
It worked. Leopold had dashed exactly where she predicted. The air blast hit him square in the chest.
But he didn't stop.
He roared—a sound that shattered the remaining glass in the gazebo windows—and slashed through the shockwave with his claws. He tore the compressed air apart as if it were a curtain.
He was inside her guard.
"Good eyes," Leopold whispered, his muzzle inches from her face. "Bad reflexes."
SLASH.
His claws raked across Kaira's chest. The leather armor shredded instantly. Four deep, parallel gashes opened up from her shoulder to her hip.
Blood sprayed into the air.
Kaira screamed and tried to counter-attack, swinging her glowing fist up in a desperate uppercut, but Leopold caught her wrist. He held her glowing, super-heated fist in his paw like it was a toy.
"Hot," Leopold mused, ignoring the sizzling of his own fur. "But useless without momentum."
He squeezed.
CRACK.
Kaira dropped to her knees, crying out as the pressure on her wrist became unbearable. The chitin armor cracked under the Lion's grip.
Ren stepped forward, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "STOP! She's beaten! You won!"
Leopold didn't look at Ren. He kept his eyes on Kaira, watching the life drain from her face.
"She hasn't yielded," Leopold said calmly. "Have you, little shrimp?"
Kaira looked up. Her face was pale, drained of blood. Her chest was a ruin. But her eyes were still burning with that stubborn, street-rat fire.
"Go… to… hell," she whispered.
She triggered the mechanism in her arm. Even immobilized, the Impact Dial could fire.
POINT BLANK DISCHARGE.
BANG.
The explosion blew them apart.
Kaira was launched backward, tumbling end over end until she hit the feet of the watching Lionesses. She didn't get up. She lay there, a broken heap of limbs and blood.
Leopold skidded back ten feet, his boots carving grooves in the stone. He looked at his hand. The palm was burned, the fur singed away, revealing blackened, blistering skin.
He flexed his fingers. He looked annoyed.
"You ruined my gloves," Leopold sighed.
He walked toward Kaira. He didn't rush. He walked with the slow, inevitable stride of an executioner.
Ren pulled against Titus's grip. "Let me go! He's going to kill her!"
"If you step in," Titus rumbled, his voice tight with suppressed rage, "the pack attacks. We all die. That is the rule of the court."
"Screw the rules!" Ren yelled, turning on the giant. "She's our friend! Are you going to watch her die because of a technicality?"
Titus hesitated. His grip loosened slightly.
Leopold reached Kaira. She was trying to crawl. One arm broken, the other burned, her chest slashed open. She dragged herself across the stone, leaving a wet red trail.
Leopold placed a boot on her back and pushed her down.
"Pathetic," Leopold sneered. "You fought well for a scavenger. But this is where the food chain ends."
He crouched down, grabbing Kaira by her red hair. He lifted her head up, exposing her throat.
"Any last words? Perhaps a prayer to the Aether?"
Kaira coughed, blood running down her chin. She looked at Ren. She smiled weakly.
"Ren…" she rasped. "My sister… the locket… take it."
She was saying goodbye.
Ren felt something snap inside him. It wasn't a bone. It was the last tether of his humanity.
He looked at Leopold—this arrogant, preening monster who treated life like a game. He looked at the Lionesses, standing there with their cold, golden eyes.
He looked at his own hands. The hands that healed.
Healing isn't just fixing, the voice of the Wild Soul whispered. Life is energy. You give it. You take it. You manipulate it.
Ren looked at the ground. A discarded spear lay near his feet—the one Leopold had snapped in half earlier. The jagged steel tip was still sharp.
Ren grabbed it.
"Titus," Ren whispered. "Throw me."
Titus looked down, startled. "What?"
"The rule says no interference," Ren said, his eyes black and void-like. "It doesn't say anything about participation. He challenged her. But he didn't say it was a singles match."
Titus looked at the Lionesses. They were watching their King. They were distracted by the spectacle of death.
"You have a plan?" Titus asked.
"No," Ren admitted, gripping the spear tip until his palm bled. "Just a feeling. Throw me. Aim for the King."
Titus grinned. A terrifying, tusky grin.
"I like your style, Scribe."
Titus grabbed Ren by the back of his tunic and his belt. He lifted the boy effortlessly. He spun once, pivoting on his massive foot like a discus thrower.
"FASTBALL SPECIAL!" Titus roared.
He launched Ren.
Ren flew through the air. He wasn't a fighter. He was a projectile.
Leopold heard the roar. He turned his head, just in time to see a screaming boy flying at him at sixty miles an hour.
Ren didn't aim to hit Leopold. He aimed for the space between Leopold and Kaira.
He slammed into the Lion, wrapping his arms and legs around Leopold's massive torso in a mid-air tackle. The momentum knocked the King off balance. They crashed to the ground, rolling over Kaira.
Leopold roared in fury, throwing Ren off him effortlessly. Ren tumbled across the stone, coming to a stop next to Kaira.
"You dare!" Leopold shrieked, standing up. His cape was torn. His dignity was shattered. "You broke the sanctity of the duel!"
"I didn't break it!" Ren yelled, standing over Kaira's broken body. He held up the jagged spear tip. "I'm tagging in!"
Leopold blinked. "Tagging in? This isn't a game!"
"It is to you!" Ren shouted.
He drove the spear tip into his own palm.
Shluck.
He didn't scream. He didn't flinch. He pushed the metal deep, severing the nerves, triggering the Wild Soul.
Blood—bright, glowing blue blood—welled up from the self-inflicted wound. The Aether screamed, demanding to heal it.
Ren dropped to his knees beside Kaira. He slammed his bleeding hand onto her slashed chest.
"Vitality Transfer!" Ren screamed.
It wasn't a skill he had practiced. It was instinct. He took the healing energy meant for his hand and pushed it out. He acted as a conduit.
Blue light exploded from his hand.
Kaira gasped, her eyes flying open.
The effect was instantaneous. The deep slash marks on her chest began to steam. The flesh knit together. The color rushed back into her cheeks. The broken bone in her arm snapped back into alignment with a loud pop.
Ren gasped, his own face turning pale. He felt his energy draining, siphoning into her like water into a dry sponge. He was dizzy. He was nauseous. He was dying to save her.
Leopold stared. The anger on his face was replaced by shock.
"You…" Leopold whispered. "You aren't healing yourself. You're healing her."
The King's eyes widened with a new emotion. Not anger. Greed.
"Infinite healing," Leopold whispered. "You can cure death."
He took a step forward.
"I change my mind," Leopold said, his voice dropping to a hungry growl. "I won't kill you, Scribe. I'm going to keep you. I'm going to chain you to my throne. My armies will be invincible. You will bleed for me forever."
He lunged.
Ren was on his knees, drained, his hand still connected to Kaira. He couldn't move. He was helpless.
Leopold's claws descended, aiming to hamstring Ren, to cripple him so he couldn't run.
CLANG.
A massive, gray shadow blocked the sun.
Leopold's claws didn't hit Ren. They hit a wall of rubbery, scarred hide.
Titus stood over Ren and Kaira. He had stepped into the ring. He had taken the blow on his forearm. Three deep scratches welled with blood, but the Hippo didn't flinch.
Titus looked at Leopold. His eyes were no longer bored. They were murderous.
"You touched the Scribe," Titus rumbled.
Leopold snarled, backing up a step. "Move, Titus! He broke the rules! He is mine!"
"He is my lunch protector," Titus stated calmly, cracking his knuckles. "And you…"
Titus raised his other fist. It was the size of a cinder block.
"...You are annoying me."
Titus punched.
It wasn't a martial arts strike. It was a haymaker thrown with the weight of a collapsing building.
It hit Leopold in the jaw.
CRACK.
The King of the Jungle, the Apex Predator, was lifted off his feet. He flew backward, crashing into the stone pillars of his own gazebo. The entire structure groaned and collapsed, burying the Lion in a pile of white marble and dust.
Silence fell over the amphitheater.
The Lionesses stared, mouths open. Their King had just been punched through a building.
Titus shook his hand, wincing slightly.
"Hard head," Titus grumbled.
He looked down at Ren, who was still pouring energy into Kaira.
"Fix her, Scribe," Titus ordered, turning his massive back to the children to face the twenty snarling Lionesses who were now drawing their weapons. "I will buy you time."
Ren nodded, sweat pouring down his face. Kaira was breathing easier. Her eyes were focused.
"Almost there," Ren gasped, his vision blurring.
From the pile of rubble, a low, vibrating growl emerged. Stones shifted. Golden light began to pulse from beneath the debris.
Leopold wasn't done.
And now, he was really, really mad.